Boldy James, Futurewave - The Whole Hundro lyrics

But why all the secrecy on this project?
This is the Space Angel's new ship
I'd sure like to see him
We probably wouldn't know if we did
Since no one knows who the Space Angel is
Ayy two way, deuce, siete
Jack guy where we at?

Can't swindle a swindler
Used to cut the 'caina with vinegar
Now I keep my traffic to a minimum
Brand new millennium
Too many Kansas City Chiefs
And not enough Indians
Countin' up them Benjamin Bannekers with
Them diamond cut tendencies
Linin' up them big spenders
Five hundred or better got me
Rackin' up them strict tenders
Taxin' for them fish dinners
Collectin' the front end
Watchin' out for snitches who
Be havin' fed run-ins
Got them peoples all in my business
Tryna butt in don't end up the butt of my
Jokes on the butt end
It's different strokes
Different folks on that dead end
But when them street lights come on
It's time to head in
Last one to take it in was tryna stay out
All night servin', lil' nigga
What your day 'bout?
Walt Disney on ice, slidin' with the clique
Mickey Mouse drum on the chop
Ninety in the clip glit

Down in Columbo
Cookin' in that same pot your
Grandma made the gumbo
Uh, it's twelve packs in a bundle
Sellin' twelve twelve skinnies in the trap
Me and buzzo
Yeah, two hundred racks in the duffel
Keep the change in exchange for
A bag full of truffles
On gang, chip a nigga like some Ruffles
Nigga go against the grain
I'ma blow the whole hundro it's Blocks

Lil' bloody, he a drill sergeant
In the hills
Tryna oversaturate the pill market
Dropped a bullet
Leavin' buddy house in the trailwind
Ice T night, he turn around
That's a tailspin
Eatin' Chickendales off the crab, V12 Benz
Parked it on the grass in the field
Sprewell spins
All white ice, from the glare
It may appear blue
I see a ConCreature when I'm
Starin' in my rear-view
Airin' out my new coupe
Pairin' up the Bluetooth
Stompin' foreign pedals in
Balenciaga moon boots
Womb to the tomb, 227, cradle to the grave
Grit's in a blender
Took it to the table with them J's
Servin' in the rentals, burner in my denim
Only built for Cuban link
Cables with the yays platinum masterpiece
Lookin' like the Silver Surfer
Killed the parking lot, last night
I caught a triple murder the Jackson

Down in Columbo
Cookin' in that same pot your
Grandma made the gumbo
Uh, it's twelve packs in a bundle
Sellin' twelve twelve skinnies in the trap
Me and buzzo
Yeah, two hundred racks in the duffel
Keep the change in exchange for
A bag full of truffles
On gang, chip a nigga like some Ruffles
Nigga go against the grain
I'ma blow the whole hu